


What if Will Stayed?

by HotSauce418



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Dinner, Fix it of sorts, Growing up poor, M/M, Social Anxiety, Sorbet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 17:08:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18370412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotSauce418/pseuds/HotSauce418
Summary: What if at the end of Sorbet, instead of leaving the wine and going home, Will had stayed?





	What if Will Stayed?

Title: What if Will Stayed?  
by HotSauce418  
  
Summary:

What if at the end of Sorbet, instead of leaving the wine and going home, Will had stayed?

Beta by

[victorine ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/victorine/pseuds/victorine)

[apoptoses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apoptoses/pseuds/apoptoses)

  
  
  


Will wasn’t sure why he came when he had no intention of staying. It was comforting to see Hannibal, and in truth it was all Will could see. That moment was captured forever; Hannibal saving a life just as he had with Abigail. There was no comfort in spending his dinner in a room full of Hannibal’s friends, however. It sounded more like a special type of torture. The guests were more than likely refined psychiatrists themselves- yet another reason for Will to leave.

Will wasn’t sure why he was still holding the wine. He was clutching it like an excuse to be there. The staff busied around the kitchen, giving Hannibal a wide space to work. One of the workers stepped around Will, who shuffled out of his way and watched him hurry to the sink. _He was in the way._ He glanced down at his mid-range merlot, his thread-bare plaid shirt and frumpy jacket. He shouldn’t have come. The excuse was making its way through his brain when Hannibal spoke.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” 

He looked earnest, pausing to give Will his full attention while the tomatoes were waiting to steal it away. Will’s stare was drawn to his bare forearms, remembering gloved hands slipping into the open wound of a man and blood pooling at his gloved wrists, the way the corded muscles had flexed as he worked. 

Will shook his head and smiled. “Uh, I don’t think I would be company.” 

“I disagree.” There it was again, that pause as if Hannibal were waiting for a response. 

It made Will feel more important than he was, and he shook his head again and gave a nervous laugh. Hannibal asked about the man he had saved in the ambulance, and Will felt a pang of guilt at the way he watched his hands as he moved. It was the second person those hands had rescued before Will’s very eyes. Will wondered what that felt like, since everything he touched was stained with death. Hannibal explained he had lost one too many patients. His work in the emergency room had cemented his decision to change from surgery to psychiatry. 

“I fix minds instead of bodies, and no one’s died as a result of my therapy.” Hannibal began to whip something in a bowl, breaking the moment. Will reminded himself that he didn’t belong there. 

“I have to go.” Will gave a pained expression. “I have a date with the Chesapeake Ripper.” 

“Or is that Rippers?” 

Will shook his head and explained how there was no connection between them. He dismissively listed off his reasons, then bit his lip over his tone. 

“Jack must be devastated,” Hannibal said. 

Will looked at Hannibal. “I’m sure he is.” He finally set the wine on the counter, his fingers lingering on the bottle hesitantly. “Enjoy the wine.” 

“Will? If I said I needed you to stay, would you?” Hannibal’s head was tipped to the side, as if he could see the very process of Will weighing his decision in his brain. 

“But you don’t. I would probably horrify your friends, anyway.” Will gave a hollow laugh and shifted on his feet. One look at Hannibal and Will knew he was serious. Why would Hannibal need _him_? His voice cracked when he said, “And I’m not dressed for it.” 

“Yet you came anyway, and brought wine.” Hannibal took a breath and focused on spooning tomatoes into their clear solution. “Recent events have had an effect on me, more profound than I had initially considered. I couldn’t cancel the dinner party this close to the date.” 

“What? You want me to send everyone home?” 

Hannibal smiled and wiped his hands on his apron. “Not exactly. I could use a friend.” 

“What about these people that are coming? Aren’t _they_ your friends?” Will was nervous now, and Hannibal was apparently not going to let him off the hook that easy. 

“Colleagues and associates, I’m afraid. I have found myself woefully short of the other.“ 

Will nodded. He knew that feeling. It was so hard to get close. Hearing that Hannibal considered him to be a friend had an effect on Will, his heart was pounding and palms were sweating. This felt nice, to be needed _and_ wanted. He found himself nodding, nervously tapping the countertop under Hannibal’s watchful eye. 

“Is that a yes? You’ll stay?” Hannibal looked pleased, warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners. 

Will nodded again before he finally found his voice. “Okay, sure.” He wiped his hands, now growing clammy, onto his pants. “But my clothes?” 

“There is no problem. I won’t have a jacket to fit you exactly, but if it would make you more comfortable we can see if one will work?” 

“Yeah, I don’t know.” Will nervously chuckled. Hannibal didn’t seem to mind. Will watched him hand off the latest plate to the staff. 

“We have a bit of time before the guests arrive. Come with me and we will take a look?” 

*** 

Hannibal’s closet was the size of Will’s bedroom at home, the one he didn’t use. Will didn’t need a lot of space, but Hannibal apparently did. The jackets were all arranged from dark to light colors, bold plaids and muted striped affairs. Hannibal took a navy blue blazer from the hanger and held it out for Will to slip on. Letting his ill-fitting coat fall to the floor, Will let Hannibal assist him putting on the jacket. The material was nice, but the sleeves hung past his hands. He didn’t think he and Hannibal were quite so different in size, but clearly they were. Hannibal stepped around to see him and Will held up both hands and the sleeves they were drowning in. 

“I look like I borrowed my Daddy’s suit for a funeral.” Will jaw closed with a snap as a bit of his southern accent slipped through. He felt his face go hot, embarrassed at sounding like that poor boy he tried to forget. 

Hannibal politely gave no sign if he heard the slip. He adjusted the blazer as best he could. “No funerals today, I should hope?” 

He helped slide the jacket from Will’s shoulders and carefully hang it back up. Hannibal appraised him for a quiet moment, and Will could feel the apples of his cheeks heat. “No jacket I think.” He smiled, disarming with the contradictory peek of his sharp teeth in the light, “You are fine just as you are.” 

Will pulled his glasses from his shirt pocket and slipped them onto his face. 

*** 

“Hannibal! I’m so pleased I could goad you into a dinner party! I’ve missed your cooking and your company.” 

“Ms. Komeda, the fault was entirely my own for neglecting you. You are, of course, always quite welcome here.” Hannibal smiled and took her arm, leading her to the dining room. 

Before Ms. Komeda could spy Will, Alana walked through the door. “Will! Are you staying for dinner?” 

“Yes.” Will didn’t mean to sound so clipped, but the arrival of guests were already beginning to heighten his anxiety. 

Alana was the last to arrive. Will had met at least eight people that had eyed his clothing and given him confused looks. Hannibal had introduced an opera singer and a man who described himself only as a philanthropist. The rest were a blur of noise. Will had been unable to contribute to the discussion of the latest art show or charity ball. It was all he could do not to sneak out the back door. He knew he couldn’t do that to Hannibal, not when he had asked him to stay so specifically. It was the least he could do. 

Alana smiled patiently and linked her arm to his, walking them both to the dining room. “Good, you can keep me company. Have you ever been to one of Hannibal’s dinner parties?” After he shook his head she continued, “Oh, I’ve never seen him in his element as much as when he is entertaining.” 

Hannibal pulled out a chair for Ms. Komeda, and Alana took her own seat without assistance. Will startled at the soft touch to his back. 

“Will, would you like to sit next to Ms. Komeda or next to me?”Hannibal asked. 

This was not something the group were accustomed to hearing, as they grew quiet and watched the exchange. This was exactly the kind of attention Will had wanted to avoid. His eyes darted to Hannibal and to the empty chair beside him, and the one that would place him by Ms. Komeda. 

“Anywhere is fine.” Yet he slipped in the seat by Ms. Komeda before anything else could be said. 

Will was grateful as Hannibal nodded and made his way to the head of the table. Alana was right: Hannibal moved with grace and ease, it was mesmerizing to watch. When Hannibal made his toast, the entire room was enthralled. They clapped and raised their glasses. Ms. Komeda tapped Will’s arm so that he raised his glass too. 

Hannibal smiled at the table, “Bon appetit.” 

*** 

Ms. Komeda was watching him. Will felt her stare and chewed harder, trying to avoid any conversation with his now overly full mouth. Ms. Komeda would not be deterred. 

“How do you know our Hannibal, Mr. Graham?” She set down her wine and turned to Will expectantly. “Are you a psychiatrist also?” 

Will began to cough around his mouthful of food, saddened that the choking hadn’t killed him as he patted his own chest. “Hardly.” Will tried to school his tone since he was here for Hannibal. “I am a teacher at Quantico.” 

Hannibal was watching him, his eyes alight. He was handsome in his tuxedo, and Will had grumbled at length when Hannibal emerged in his new outfit for dinner. No matter the reassurances they looked worlds apart, especially here. He worried he was embarrassing Hannibal. He took a deep breath. 

“How ever do you know Hannibal, then?” She turned to Hannibal, “Are you keeping secrets from us? It sounds as though you have a very exciting life we know nothing about.” 

Hannibal laughed, and whatever tension was there disappeared. ”Oh, I would never disappoint you with dullness, Ms. Komeda, but you must leave me some mystery.” 

Ms. Komeda touched his arm flirtatiously, “I”ll allow you your mystery.” 

Will assumed he had been saved and picked up his fork to continue. Ms. Komeda wasn’t done with him yet, though. 

“Tell us about yourself, Mr. Graham? Where are you from?” 

Will pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He took a drink of wine before he answered, but they all seemed to be waiting for his response. “All over really?” 

Ms Komeda snorted. “You are just like Hannibal, you answer but you never really answer. Does everyone know that we are dining with a Count from Lithuania? I promise it will be the only secret I tell.” She ended the statement with a coy wink. 

The group laughed, as did Hannibal. 

“Merely a title, I assure you.” Hannibal seemed so at ease and enjoying the company, but Will’s leg was bouncing under the table. 

Will felt himself sink into his seat. Hannibal had asked so little of him and he was ruining it. Of course, Will hadn’t realized how many worlds apart they truly were. Hannibal was nobility. There was no way that Will could navigate this with the same dexterity Hannibal showed; all he could do was try. 

“Okay.” He took a deep breath and fidgeted with the napkin in his lap. “I was born in Louisiana.” 

They quieted to hear him out. Alana smiled at him patiently. It was that kind smile Alana always had for him, that made Will question his words and how sane he appeared in that moment. It distracted him and stopped him from continuing. 

“I have fond memories of New Orleans,” Ms. Komeda supplied with a pleasant smile at his pause. 

“I just remember heat.” Will gave a hollow laugh at how different their experiences must be. Someone like Ms. Komeda had never had the power turned off in the middle of watching television. She wouldn’t know what it was like to eat ketchup on crackers for supper because her father was too drunk to cook. The entire party was elite and cultured, even Alana. They wouldn’t know what it was like to move from place to place because their father couldn’t hold onto a job or any money. Will’s head ached at the things they wouldn’t understand. Before he could stop it the words slipped out with an ugly bitterness he was unable to hide. “And hunger.” 

They grew quiet again after that. Will kept his eyes on his plate, his face burning in humiliation. Hannibal considered him a friend, and asked for only one thing from Will. He couldn’t keep himself together to sit through a simple dinner for the man. Will wanted to stand up and leave, but he would only make it worse. He drank his wine in gulps, and the server refilled it. 

*** 

Will had never been so happy as when the staff began to clear the table. He tried his best not to jump from his seat and head to the door. His leg had finally stopped bouncing under the table after a polite look from Ms. Komeda. Yet the party seemed happy to remain seated. Ms. Komeda had finally resigned herself to the fact that Will wasn’t much of a conversationalist. Only the occasional glance from Alana was sent his way. She was happily chatting away with the philanthropist. Will assumed she was only checking on him in fear that he would make his escape or embarrass them all further. 

“I’d like to invite you all to the parlor for drinks?” Hannibal’s voice was smooth like honey, but Will expected nothing less. 

WIll followed the group from the dining room. Alana joined arms with the philanthropist and Hannibal was guiding Ms. Komeda like a true gentleman. Will lingered as much as he could, feeling more alone than he had in some time around the group than truly by himself, uncomfortably so. 

Will’s dad had drunkenly told him he came from a line of poor Louisiana trash. Everything he had now he had worked for. Maybe things would have been different under the right circumstances. In a different life Will would wear suits and entertain, be charming and personable. Watching Hannibal now, Will wasn’t sure why he wanted him there at all. He felt as if he had crawled away from the “poor” moniker only to find it staring him in the face now. 

The group was far enough ahead that he could slip out, however cowardly that would be, and make his escape. Will made his way down the hall; his hand was on the knob when he heard Hannibal. 

“I was just coming to see about you. Sneaking away?” Hannibal looked amused rather than disappointed. 

Will shrugged and kept his eyes to the floor. 

"I'm glad you see me as a friend, but tonight made it pretty clear we couldn't be more different. I don't know what your life has been like, just like you don't know how mine has been.” Will sounded angry and he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was feeling paraded around under the guise of friendship, when it was clear they couldn’t be. “I’m sorry if I ruined your party." 

"Will, we are more alike then you will ever know. You didn’t ruin anything.” Will’s scowl didn’t change the tone Hannibal gave him. It was gentle, as if he were calming a wild animal or afraid he may startle Will into fleeing. “I’ve been hungry, and alone. I wasn't always the man you see now. I invited you tonight because I wanted _you_ here.” 

“Well you certainly got me.” Will winced at the snap, and gave an apologetic look to Hannibal. Will’s glasses had slipped down his nose again, so he tucked them in his pocket. It gave him a moment to look away and hide the emotions he couldn’t name that felt so very close to the surface, because of the soft look Hannibal was giving him now. Will cleared his throat and nodded, finally meeting his eyes. 

When Will looked now, he could see it so very clearly; the _want_. Will felt it too. The very air around them seemed charged. Hannibal’s eyes were curious, yet his smile fond. The relief to have not disappointed him, to feel that connection, made some long-forgotten ache in his chest ease. 

Will’s face heated at the warm tingle in his belly and the comfort that notion had given him, to be wanted by Hannibal. Yet, what satisfaction he received from that, he dismissed with a shake of his head. It was just one more moment of confusion, a whirlwind of static in his fragile mind. 

“I’ve got to go.” 

Hannibal nodded and pulled the door open for him. 

Once Will was outside he turned back. “Thanks for dinner.” 

  



End file.
